


Ways of the World

by merellia



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Feminism, Futurefic, Gen, Patriarchy, what has it gots in its pocketses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merellia/pseuds/merellia
Summary: “Pockets,” Haruka announced, hands to their waist.  “That’s what was wrong all along. No pockets.”





	Ways of the World

Haruka nodded, skimming the essay one more time, then closed the browser window, shut their laptop, and stood up from the couch. They went to find Michiru.

It wasn’t hard; this time of day Michiru was practicing in the room that served as a combined study for Hotaru, practice-room, and book-room. The door was cracked, signaling that Michiru didn’t mind being interrupted, so Haruka opened it and entered. Michiru paused, bow poised across the strings of her violin, and cocked an eyebrow at Haruka.

“Pockets,” Haruka announced, hands to their waist. “That’s what was wrong all along. No pockets.”

Michru raised both eyebrows, lowering her bow. “Some context, please?”

Haruka flung themself to the floor and sat by Michru’s chair. “Pockets! Our senshi uniforms have never had pockets—and do you wonder why?”

Michiru smiled. “Need I? I feel certain that you’re going to tell me.”

“Patriarchy.” Haruka spat the word out dramatically.

Michiru looked blank. “What?”

“Just think!” Haruka put a hand on Michiru’s knee. “Who determined what prettiness meant—the pretty sailor soldiers—in a way that took away all that’s useful? Why does Tuxedo Mask get pockets, and not us? _Why_ ,” they said, gaining steam, “am I in a battle uniform that makes me wear _high heels_?”

“But wasn’t the Silver Millennium a matriarchy?”

“Collective cultural values that predated the Silver Millennium! Queen Serenity showed us what powerful women could do—but she never changed the uniforms from before that!” Haruka declared, and stood. “I’m going to fix this.” Haruka strode out of the room.

Michiru’s violin sounded a few tentative notes behind Haruka.

* * *

It took Haruka some experimentation and looking up details of the fatigues for the Self-Defense Forces to get a pattern (they might as well use what patriarchy had provided in its favor) in mind. Then it took concentration to affect their transformation. They knew it could be done—after all, Odango-chan even to this day still used her pen to transform into different professional outfits when she wanted to ease into interviewing someone—but it was different when trying to affect a process so ingrained it might as well be instinctive. 

There was that one transformation where they ended up with neither skirt nor pants, but they swore to never tell anyone about that. Except maybe Michiru. Maybe they'd demonstrate it for Michiru….

Finally, Haruka got the uniform to their liking. They didn’t change the top, but now they had pants, relaxed, sturdy pants in dark navy, with pockets: pockets on the hips, pockets on the side of the legs, pockets below the knee. Haruka stomped around a bit, enjoying the firm thud of their boots. No more countering for the slick skid of high-heeled shoes! They were comfortable: no rubbing on their heel, no cramped toes. And socks! Socks were the best. Haruka stomped a bit more. This was _good_.

* * *

The other Sailor Soldiers seemed less than impressed when Haruka demonstrated for them. 

“Heels are sexy!” Minako declared.

“Skirts are feminine,” said Rei.

Makoto said, looking troubled, “I don’t want to be _more_ intimidating…”

“In battle?” Haruka scoffed before they saw Michiru fold her arms and give them a stern look. 

Hotaru glanced around at all the other women before turning back to Haruka. “They’re very you, Haruka-papa,” she said tactfully. Setsuna just watched Haruka with narrowed eyes.

There was, though, some solidarity. “They’re very sensible,” Ami said approvingly. 

Haruka caught the fixed expressions on the other women’s faces at that and groaned inwardly. Sensible was clearly not a selling point. “They are _iconoclastic_ ,” Haruka said. 

Minako’s glance sharpened. 

“Fashion-forward,” Haruka added. 

Usagi pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“You could carry knives in them; they could come in handy, since our attacks aren't suited to close-in work,” Haruka said. 

Mamoru and the shitennou nodded in approval.

“And just think about not freezing off your ass when patrolling in the cold. Or when fighting in the rain.” Several of the women perked up at that.

* * *

There were a few missteps, as when Venus transformed her skirt into gauzy, see-through pants. “ _Very_ sexy,” she said, until Haruka snapped, “The point is pockets!” then, cunningly, added, “Where can you tuck away condoms in that?”

“Haruka-san,” Ami interrupted, scandalized, “are you suggesting she would go from battlefield to bed?”

Venus slid a glance to Kunzite and the other shitennou, and looked intrigued.

“Pockets provide options,” Haruka said loftily. 

* * *

“I admit,” Jupiter said to Haruka as she pulled out a knife from her pocket and approached the chairs where Usagi and Mamoru had been tied up together, “that your advice was good.”

Venus kept a sharp watch from the roof, her silhouette trim in a catsuit and utility belt, dark against the star-spangled night sky above.

“It’s almost like you had foresight,” Mars sighed, catching hold of the unconscious Usagi as, untied, she slumped out of the chair. Haruka caught Mamoru before he could topple, and eased him to the ground.

Looking at Usagi and Mamoru through her visor, Ami pulled out first aid supplies from her pockets and gave something to each of them. 

“Michiru’s rendezvoused with a helicopter for transport,” Haruka simply said.

“We might not need a hospital, now that I’ve been able to give them a stimulant. . . . Let’s see,” said Ami.

* * *

Later that evening, as everyone (sans Venus, who had disappeared just after the battle) updated Hotaru on what had happened, she smiled and leaned against Haruka’s arm. She said happily, “Haruka-papa knows best.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I want more feminism with my crackfic. :D
> 
> I hope you enjoyed. Comments are candy to my soul. If you liked this, please let me know!


End file.
